The Transcendent Godslayer-Chapter 100: Rifts: Menelaus’ death!

Heads exploded in Kallen’s wake, as he left behind a trail of blood and gore.

No matter where they scattered to, none of them were able to run past him and into the tunnels.

"Please!"

"Have mercy!"

"Get out of my way!!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A cacophony of cries, pleas for help, hammers smashing against bodies, and bodies plopping onto the floor in dull thuds filled the forge.

"Please, please, please! Stay away!" one of them cried, crawling backward. When Kallen killed the person next to him, the orc’s fear suddenly gave way to rage, and he retaliated.

A cornered beast was always a dangerous beast.

The young man pushed over a deep mold, holding molten metal probably intended for casting a new hammer, intending to fry Kallen with it.

However, before he could even heave a sigh of relief, Kallen was already beside him. The young orc couldn’t even comprehend what had happened before he suddenly felt light on his feet, soaring through the air.

The confusion was short-lived, however, as it was quickly overwhelmed by pain.

A shriek that would cause even the bravest hearts to curl in fear escaped the boy’s lips as he rolled and thrashed, flailing like a pig in the pool of molten metal he had poured onto the floor himself.

Suddenly, Menelaus appeared at the end of the tunnel, taking in the absolute carnage before him.

Seeing all the helpless and dying orcs, those who had called him ’Father’, the already deceased among them, the blood pooling on the floor, and Kallen weaving through the bodies like a phantom, his mind was transported to the first day he had brought Kallen in.

His heart shook, and as though on cue, Kallen turned to look at him.

It was those same eyes again. Those crimson, apathetic eyes. Clear as spring, still as a lake.

ROAR!!!

Menelaus seemed to let go of every inhibition that had held him back as hatred consumed him.

First was Zephyrus, who had oppressed him all his life. Then came Kallen, also brought in by Zephyrus. On his very first day, Kallen had killed the last of his biological family... had slit his son’s throat right before his eyes.

Now, the last pieces of dignity he had left, the final shred of light in his heart, the reasons why he had taken all these risks, why he had gambled everything by trusting that mysterious Saint... all of them were dying before his very eyes.

Slowly, his dark brown pupils rolled to the back of his head. His aura exploded once, then again, and again.

Suddenly, his Will erupted violently, pressing on the world like a divine seal. Like a flower blooming under duress.

[Your Will has evolved]

[An Awakened Will: A Bloom of Hatred. Your authority over the world increases.]

As his Will evolved, he finally saw through the fog. From the fractures in his mind, as he struggled to wrestle control with the parasite in his psyche, he finally saw through the illusion that... there was no fighting.

All of them were already dead.

But it was too late. His jaw was suddenly slapped shut from below with a force that tilted his head upward and rattled his brain.

Before Menelaus could recover, his mind was overwhelmed by the most painful experience he had ever felt.

"Arrrrgggghhh!!!" he screamed, as molten metal was suddenly doused on his face like a bucket of water.

However, it only worsened his condition, as molten metal flowed even into his mouth and down his throat, burning and melting everything in its path.

Above him was a crucible, hanging from a chain filled with runic inscriptions, suspended by a spear affixed to the wall.

It dangled low, and its end was held tightly by a delicate hand.

"So... how long until he arrives?"

---

It hadn’t taken Kallen a minute to completely wipe out the orc teens... twenty-two of them in total.

Afterward, he retrieved a crucible, scooping out the remaining molten metal from the few molds still standing. Only two remained intact; the rest had been toppled or used by Kallen to finish off the teens.

He needed speed. Being meticulous would only waste time.

The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh. Putrid smoke and steam rose from the floor like restless spirits.

Adding in a few more ores, Kallen slid the crucible deep into the furnace and waited.

No more than a few minutes later, Yula appeared at the end of the tunnel.

For the briefest moment, her body shuddered. Then her gaze swept the room, finding Kallen sitting atop an anvil, surrounded by corpses like an emperor of the dead.

Her eyes narrowed at him, and he smiled faintly in return.

There was a tense silence between them before she finally broke it.

"Why?" she asked, trying hard to grasp what was going through his mind.

"Because I wanted to," Kallen said with a shrug.

"You must be stupid," she hissed. "What makes you think you can escape?"

"Escape?" Kallen tilted his head. "Who said anything about escaping?"

"Then why?" she repeated.

Kallen looked at her, feigning confusion. "Didn’t I just say so?"

"To be honest... a part of me always expected you to do this." She shook her head and looked down.

"Well, I have a knack for fulfilling expectations," Kallen replied with a serene smile.

This time, Yula said nothing. Her eyes affixed to the floor, where Aeneas’s severed head lay before her feet, his body not far behind.

Unlike the others, his corpse was cleanly beheaded by a blade. The rest having been brutally crushed by something heavy and blunt.

She glanced at Kallen again and noticed Aeneas’s short sword in his hand.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly.

"Then you should fulfill my expectation this time... and die. Don’t you think?" she asked with a cold smile.

"I’m not ready to die just yet," Kallen chuckled.

But the chuckle turned into a grimace as a knife suddenly plunged deep into his sternum.

He coughed up blood, and pulled it out with a pained sigh.

"Stop being dramatic," he muttered.

Yula’s eyes turned frigid.

The next moment, Kallen’s head shot off his body, blood erupting like a geyser.